She Rages

So, here's the thing: I'm really sick of trying to find The One identity I can claim as my own. I've gone on a renaming kick since I realized I could change my Twitter handle. And so in the past two (?) months, I've changed my name three times. I think I'm done now. (Maybe?) Really, can there ever be too much justified rage in this world? I've been angry for as long as I can remember. Literally. Hell, I probably could have benefitted from anger management at one point (looking at you, violent mini-V). I'm sick and fed up, tired of being mistreated, ignored, and treated like garbage, usually as a direct result of my intersecting identities. I'm Queer, disabled, neurodivergent, something sort of like an Atheopagan (re: Witch who occasionally tries her hand at belief). I'm a survivor and a victim. I control my own narrative but I'm not responsible for the things that have been done to me. I have C-PTSD and other psychiatric vulnerabilities. I've been institutionalized against my will. I've fought back. I've given up. I've tried hopefulness and fatalism. I've survived suicide and rape, homelessness and abuse. I survived my childhood.

I'm a fighter and my fuel is rage.
Sometimes, I hope that never changes.
Sometimes, I wish I could be kinder to my heart.
But most of the time, I'm grateful for my wit and temper.

She Rages.